


studying

by orphan_account



Series: AyaHina Week 2015 [2]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: (again), AyaHinaweek, Ayato-centric, F/M, Kafka References, Kirishima Touka - Freeform, Sasaki Haise - Freeform, Tutoring, ayahina, ayato bein a drama queen, because i love them, cross posted on tumblr, fueguchi hinami - Freeform, kirishima ayato - Freeform, lit professor haise au, more kirishima siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ayato is failing his Literature class, and Touka is forced to get a tutor for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	studying

**Author's Note:**

> Written for AyaHina week 2015.  
> Non-Ghoul AU: Haise is a Lit Professor at Ayato and Hinami's schools, as well as Hinami's half brother. 
> 
> (Probably exactly the same as 'confessions' tbh. Forgive me. orz)

For perhaps the hundredth time that day, Ayato groans from his spot on the couch. Loudly, at that—loud enough to be heard from the kitchen (which is about fifteen steps away from the couch), at least. He knows he’s probably acting like some sort of drama queen at this point, and that groaning isn’t going to help out his case at _all,_ but he’s too desperate now to think of something else that will save his sorry ass.

His mood doesn’t get any better when his shitty sister blocks his view.

“Go away.” he grumbles.

“Get up.”

“Never. Now get out, you’re blocking my view.”

“What view??”

“My view of the light bulb, idiot. Get out.”

“Why are you looking at the light bulb?”

“I’m hoping that if I stare at it long enough, it’ll blind me and you’ll have no choice but to take me to the hospital or something. Now get out, I’m pretty sure I’m like a quarter blind already.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Touka says, putting her hands on her hips. “It’s just a tutoring session.”

 _Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?_ Ayato thinks, trying _not_ to roll his eyes at his sister (even though it takes far more effort than usual this time). _It’s a fucking tutoring session._ _And it’s so fucking stupid, I don’t even know where to begin. So for god’s sake, leave me alone._

She doesn’t, much to his dismay.

* * *

 

 

This never would have happened if he hadn’t been caught sleeping in class, really.

It’s not his fault, as he so often insists. He could give less of a shit about Gregor fucking Samsa and how he became an insect. (For the record, Ayato thinks that fucker totally had it coming for him.) (Even if it makes no sense whatsoever.)

It’s not his fault they keep studying ‘worthless pieces of crap no one will remember in like twenty years or so’ (his words exactly). Alright, so maybe it _is_ kind of his fault that he said that out loud after the teacher woke him up and asked him exactly _why_ he was sleeping in class, but it’s not his fault that Professor Haise took offense to that. Really, if he didn’t like what he said, the dumbass should have just turned around and continued the lecture. But no. He just had to call over Ayato’s sister—who was also, as if to add insult to injury, Professor Haise’s _girlfriend_ —and tell her all about Ayato’s little nap during class.

And the fact that he was failing.

 

 

 

“And why the fuck did he tell you that?” Ayato asked, on the night Touka told him all about their conversation.

“He’s your teacher. It’s his job to know your grades, and my job as your older sister to know what’s happening in your life.”

Psh. Shitty Touka being the shitty sister she always was. Ayato could always see right through her. Kind of. Not really. He grumbled and put one hand on his cheek, one elbow mounted on the table, glaring at her back as she washed the dishes. “Yeah fucking right. I bet he just texted you the details or something, like the stupid boyfriend he is.”

“That’s not important.”

“It is and you know it.”

“Shut up and listen to me for a second, would you??” Touka put the dishes down harshly, almost breaking them, before she turned around to return Ayato’s sour glare. “You’re failing Lit. Hell, your grades are bad enough to get you kicked out of Haise’s class! And if you fail Lit, chances are you’re not graduating high school. And I know you don’t want that.”

Ayato grumbled again. It was true though. His grades in his other subjects were passable, but when it came to his Classic Literature class, he was as good as gone. Partially because of the fact that he absolutely _hated_ his teacher—because really, fucking with his grades was one thing, fucking his sister was another. (And they were _definitely_ fucking. Ayato knew. He had to find a way to sleep through the sound of it every other night.) (Hah. Maybe that was what he should have said when Professor Haise asked him why he was sleeping during class. “Sorry sir, it’s just that you and my sister were being really loud last night and I couldn’t sleep through it. I guess you guys will just have to take your fun to another room if you want me to stay awake during your class, honestly.” Maybe that would have saved his ass.)

“Alright, fine. I’m failing.” He said, a bored look on his face. “What happens now? I drop out? Get a job on the streets to support the two of us or something? What?”

“You’re not kicked out.” She replied, leaning against the sink. “Yet. Haise offered a solution.”

“Hit me.”

“A tutor.”

Ayato waited for exactly half a second before replying. “No.”

“I already said yes.”

“Since when did you make decisions or me?”

“Since your grades started going to hell, you asshole. Now it’s either you go with this tutoring shit or you risk repeating another year in high school. Take your pick.”

Always like Touka to ask the tough questions.

 

* * *

 

 

So Ayato ended up having to go through with the tutoring. He knows it’ll save him another long year of the pains of high school (minus the puberty), and maybe even a lifetime of regret. Or something along those lines.

But fuck. No matter which way he puts it, the conclusion is still the same.

This. Is. Stupid.

 _I don’t need a tutor._ he thinks, still sprawled across the couch, still trying to blind himself in the vain hope that his sister will actually get him out of here before his goddamned tutor arrives. _I don’t need a fucking tutor._

… _Actually no, scratch that._ He _does_ need a tutor.

 _I don’t_ want _a tutor._

 _There. That’s better_.

It also sounds incredibly bratty, but he can’t find it in himself to care anymore. Finally coming to terms with the fact that he’s never going to go blind from staring at the light and that there’s no way out of this, he rolls off the couch with a slight groan, catching himself on his feet before he can fall to the ground.

He sits with his elbows on his knees, one hand coming up to run through his hair.

Fine. There’s no way out of this, and this is the only way to improve his grades. He gets it. Professor Haise is looking for a solution to the problem, and this is it. He gets it. The chances of his sister doing a one eighty on him and telling him that she’s decided he doesn’t have to go through this are down to a sad, pitiful zero. _He gets it._ He’s not entirely over it yet, but he’s pretty knee deep in acceptance, at least, so it’s a start. It’s all fine.

The only problem he has with it is he doesn’t even know who his goddamn tutor is.

Now that he thinks about it, Touka didn’t even drop him a hint. Neither did her shit boyfriend.

…weird.

He hopes it’s not some creep from his class. Or another teacher. Or—god forbid—Professor Haise himself. _Oh god,_ he realizes suddenly, his stomach dropping. _It’s_ definitely _going to be Professor Haise._

Just as that thought drops itself in his head, the doorbell rings.

Ayato waits a few seconds more before the doorbell rings again.

_It’s definitely Professor Haise._

He gets up, straightens his shirt, and reluctantly walks over.

_It’s Professor Haise and he’s going to stay over for the night._

Wraps his hand around the doorknob.

_It’s Professor Haise and I’m going to fucking fail Lit and I am gone._

And opens.

 

“Hello!”

 

…That is _not_ Professor Haise.

…But it’s close enough.

 

 _You’re kidding me._ he thinks. For a second he thinks this is some cruel joke his sister and her boyfriend decided to play on him. They probably played this up for shits and giggles, because there’s no way on earth this could be happening to him, there’s no fucking way he could be this unlucky.

Because standing at the door is his new tutor: Fueguchi Hinami.

AKA. That girl he used to watch all the time back in middle school. And maybe high school too.

_Fuck. This._

He can’t believe he’s thinking this, but god, he wishes it was Professor Haise standing there in front of him.

 

 

“Can I come in?” she asks, a small smile on her face.

After about two seconds or so of staring, Ayato shakes his head. “Uh, yeah.” He says. “S-sure.”

 _Wow, Ayato._ He thinks. _Stuttering? Really? Fucking smooth._

With a slight giggle, she nods and walks inside. “Thank you.”

For a moment, Ayato’s hopeful. _Maybe she’s just here to visit sis,_ he thinks as he closes the door. Hinami and his sister _are_ pretty close after all, what with Hinami being Professor Haise’s half sister and all that. _Yeah that’s it. She’s got the wrong Kirishima. And she didn’t know sis went out a few minutes ago. Then she’ll go home and leave me alone. Or something. Yes. There._

With that thought in mind, he turns around, looks her in the eye, and asks her the one thing he _really_ shouldn’t be asking: “So, why are you here again?”

Hinami takes no offense. She just flashes him another cute smile, and throws her bag down on the couch. “Well,” she says, kneeling down to rummage through the contents of her bag. “Big brother told me that you were failing—“ (That should _not_ be as embarrassing as it is, honestly.) “—and said you needed a tutor. And um, I guess this is awkward because we’re not really close or anything, but…I volunteered.”

She pulls out her Classical Literature textbook, along with a dog eared copy of _The Metamorphosis_ , and Ayato knows he’s done for.

“So…I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m your new tutor!”

 

 

The world hates him.

 

* * *

 

 

Ayato first noticed Fueguchi Hinami when she stumbled into class on the very first day of middle school.

Literally, stumbled. She actually _tripped over herself._ Up until then, Ayato didn’t really think that was possible. But here she was, living proof of that fact that you could, in fact, have two left feet. Or however it was that expression went.

 

That was the first thing he noticed.

 

The second thing was a bit more serious.

It was late their first year of high school.

She always just kind of looked so…sad. And not just sad like ‘Damn, I failed the test again, fuck’ or ‘Damn, I missed last night’s episode of _Game of Thrones_ , now I’ll never know what happened to Jon Snow’. It was another kind of sadness. He couldn’t really explain it. But most of the time, it looked like…loneliness.

He found out, later on, that that sadness was caused by her father’s death, and her mother’s grave illness. Terminal cancer. He knew that because he had overheard his stupid classmates saying that, whispering amongst themselves every time she passed by them, her head down, pretending she couldn’t hear them. At the time, all he wanted was for them to just stop talking about her. _It’s her life, god,_ He thought. _Just shut up and do something with your own worthless lives, fuck._

A week after that, her mother died.

He found that out from all the gossip, too.

 

Ayato could relate to that, actually. His own mother went out for a walk one day, and never came back. His stupid father was shot down by accident. And of course, he had his sister, but..it was never really the same.

In a way, he felt as lonely as Hinami did.

 

He remembered having the fleeting urge to go up to her then, to talk to the girl with her forehead pressed against the cold metal of her locker, the girl who no one ever talked to, but who everyone always seemed to be talking about. He wanted to go up to her and tell her he knew just how she felt to be lonely, that he was sorry about her mother, and that he—may have, probably—wanted to be her friend.

But he was a coward.

 

The next year was totally different. Change surrounded Hinami, in more ways than one. Her mother died, her half brother Haise took her in, and the two of them left town for the summer. By the time they got back, Haise was now a fully employed Lit teacher at their high school. But he wasn’t the only one who had changed.

When Hinami came back, she looked…different. And not just different looks-wise, with her longer, darker hair, her height, hell, even her face seemed kind of new—but there was also something in her eyes, this new light that just seemed to make her look…stronger.

And that _was_ the year she began showing more of her strengths rather than her weaknesses. That was the year she studied harder than most people, acing almost all her classes and making up for all the failures of her previous year. She was still shy, and kept mostly to herself, Haise, Touka, and her books, but she wasn’t afraid of having to speak to anyone anymore, in fact, she made a few more friends where Ayato didn’t. That was the year she showed how talented, intelligent, and truly kindhearted she was.

Ayato barely recalled her showing any sign of weakness. But he did have the feeling she was just holding back.

Those eyes were still lonely.

 

But hey, by the end of that year, Ayato was too far gone. She had shown enough of her strengths and her weaknesses, but he still felt as though he were looking at her through frosted glass, as though he were on the outside trying to get a look in. Or something like that. In short, Ayato was _fascinated._

And he had all the reason to be. Because really. She had grown from a shy, timid crybaby, to a talented, sweet woman. And he had grown from a pissy fourteen year old, into….a pissy seventeen year old.

 

_God. Much difference three years made._

* * *

 

 

But that’s not the point.

Point is, this isn’t fair, and if this is some kind of joke his sister is playing on him, then it’s really not funny. _Really._

Well, this had better work, or he’s going to go back to that couch and try to blind himself all over again.

 

“So.” She says, seated down by the table, closely watching the pages of her book as she flips through them quickly. Ayato’s sitting beside her, still trying to put as much distance between them as possible, although he probably shouldn’t. “Big brother tells me you’re having trouble with Kafka?”

He shrugs. “I guess.”

God. He’s not even trying to be rude.

 

She nods, turning to that page. “Alright. Do you want to start with that or go over something else first?”

“Anything goes.”

He knows that she should really be mad at him for being so vague, but for some reason, this goddamned angel keeps her cool, shows him a smile, and pushes the book over to his side. “So, what is it you don’t understand about this?”

 _Everything, pretty much._ He shrugs. “How Samsa became a pest, or something like that.”

“Bug.”

“What?”

“He became a bug.”

“What’s the difference?”

She shrugs.

“Alright then, he becomes a bug. How did that happen?”

“Well,” she looks over her book for a second. “It’s never really stated _how_ he became an insect. In fact, some readers interpret it to be symbolic. Like, the change Samsa undergoes and how he’s regarded as a monster in society shows he probably did something that made him a ‘vermin’ and how he changed into something ugly because of it.” She looks over at him, meeting his confused eyes for a second before she smiles. “…maybe I should go a bit slower?”

Embarrassed, Ayato nods.

“Alright.” She takes out her dog eared copy of the Kafka classic, flipping to page one. “We’ll start from the beginning. Oh, and you’re lucky since this is big brother’s study copy—and he usually puts notes in his study copies.” Another flash of another smile. “So, let’s start from here, and I’ll explain everything you need to know, okay?”

“Sure.” He says in reply, inching a bit closer to her. Honestly, he’s not _that_ stupid so as to not understand anything she’s saying or even to not understand the story itself, but..he figures with someone else by his side, going through it with him, it can’t be that bad.

“Okay.” She clears her throat and starts reading. “’ _One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that in bed he had been changed into a monstrous verminous bug.’_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

This is _not_ what Ayato had expected.

He knew Hinami was smart. Of course he did, he had spent a whole year watching her from the back of the classroom, specifically eyeing the red numbers on the corners of her test papers that always happened to be over ninety. He just never thought she was t _his_ smart. He didn’t know how to explain that. But that was just it.

He knew she was good at Literature, and that it was her favorite subject. She spent every lunchtime by herself, out by a tree or something, with her eyes glued to the pages of a book that was far too advanced for her age—plus, her half brother was a Lit Professor, so that was something too. He just didn’t know she could go this in depth with the things she read, that she could manage to analyze the little details that Ayato himself would have scanned over; she researched, prepared, and hell, some of these analyses were her own. And she could give examples, compare some situations or characters in the book to things Ayato liked, like comparing Samsa’s inner conflict to that of the protagonist of one of Ayato’s favorite mangas, just so he could understand them better.

Not to mention how she would sometimes smile and laugh, and when Ayato would ask her what was so funny, she would mention that this certain scenario or character reminded her of another book she read in the past. “But maybe I’ll tell you next time.” She said, and it took Ayato exactly three seconds to realize that there probably would be a next time. And that he was okay with it.

In other words, Hinami is a very entertaining and effective tutor. By the time she shuts the book and sighed happily, almost as if parting with an old friend— _Is that how she always feels after finishing a book?_ Ayato wonders—Ayato’s almost a hundred percent sure he can ace this test.

 

(And it’s probably not important at all, but Hinami makes for a great narrator. Her voice is soft, but she sets the tone just right, never rushes, and every word that rolls off her tongue sounds graceful and beautiful; hell, she can even make the word ‘phlegm’ sound pretty. …Or at least, it’s pretty to Ayato’s ears anyway.)

 

 

 

 

“So.” She says, pushing the book away from her and smiling at Ayato. It’s obvious that she’s tired, her mouth almost dry from reading and explaining, but she still keeps that smile up, and Ayato can’t help but appreciate her a little more than he already does. “Did that help?”

Ayato nods. “Yeah, it did. I think I get it now. If I remember everything, I’ll probably ace that test that’s coming up.”

“Good! I’m glad.” Breathing a sigh of relief, Hinami drops her books into her bag, stealing a glance at her wristwatch. “Hey, I know it’s sudden but, I kind of have to go.”

“Already?” He asks, and he realizes only later how surprised he is by how much he doesn’t want her to leave, just yet.

“Yeah..big brother doesn’t like me staying out late.”

 _That fucker_ , Ayato thinks.

“So..” she stands up from her seat, and props her bag up on her shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

She will, definitely. But Ayato just doesn’t feel satisfied. Even if he knows all about Gregor fucking Samsa now, even if he can write a three page essay on how the whole story counts as a sort of metaphor or allegory, even if he’s confident enough that he can pass the test now, and everything else coming up and save his grades—it still feels like it ended so suddenly.

It’s probably because of some left over guilt from not talking to her when she needed someone the most. It’s probably because an apology for laughing at her when she tripped back in middle school, an apology just hanging on the tip of his tongue. It’s probably because she’s just so intelligent, so sweet, and so damn _beautiful,_ and Ayato can’t help but feel attracted to her that he wants her to stay, just for a little while longer so they can just talk. It doesn’t have to be anything about the lesson, just…talk.

But as much as he wants that, he can’t ignore the fact that she has curfews and responsibilities that she can’t leave behind, and he can’t get in the way of that.

So he just stands up and nods. “See you round then.”

She laughs softly. “Don’t look so down, Ayato!” she says, then takes out a pen from her pocket and grabs his hand, holding it so his palm his facing the ceiling.

He panics for a second. “Hey, hold up—! What’s this all about?”

She finishes writing what she needs to write just as he stops talking, though. And there, scrawled across his palm in blue ink, are…numbers—her phone number.

She catches onto his momentary hesitation and fidgets with the end of her jacket, smiling at him. “My number.” She says. “Just in case, you know, you wanted some tutoring again.”

_Right. Tutoring._

Good enough.

Before he can say anything else, she’s speeding towards the door, bag in hand. “I’m really sorry Ayato, but I really have to go, but I promise we’ll see each o—“

“Wait.”

She stops. Looks over her shoulder just as she opens the door. “Yes?”

God. He can’t believe he’s going to say this, but he figures, it’s worth it, just this one time. He looks away and rubs the side of his neck, and he swears he’s blushing, just a little bit. Not that he’ll ever admit to it. “…Thanks. Hinami.”

She waits a second, looking at him, her eyes locked on his, and Ayato thinks he can see the girl he was so taken with clearly, for the very first time.

A smile spreads across her face. “You’re welcome. Ayato.”

And with that, she walks out the door, and leaves.

 

* * *

 

 

Touka does _not let_ him live it down.

Ayato doesn’t tell her anything when she gets home later that night, but the blue numbers scribbled across his wrist are enough to tell her what she needs to know.

“So.” She says, walking past the couch where Ayato is seated, and though he can’t see her, he knows she’s smirking. “How was the tutoring session?”

“I hate you.”

“Why?”

“You knew it was Hinami, didn’t you?”

“No…..”

“Liar.”

With a shake of her head, Touka turns around and leans on the top of the couch, smiling over Ayato’s shoulder. “Thought you’ve always wanted to talk to her?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Well then, there you go. You talked to her, she helped you, you got her phone number. Good deal, huh?”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me.” Touka turns on her heel, already on her way up the stairs. “Whatever your feelings for her are, she’s a smart girl, and you should really consider calling her up again to help you. I mean, she _is_ kind of the only person patient enough to tutor you.”

He has to admit, she’s right.

 

When he’s sure his sister is gone, he takes one look down his palm again.

 

Screw blinding himself.

Now that he thinks about it, he’s having some trouble with Murakami too.

 

_xx_

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted here: http://alphashiro.tumblr.com/post/122419447053/ayahina-week-day-3-studying
> 
> ...i'm sorry orz


End file.
